Realizing what you are
by Force-Recon-tiberian
Summary: A Canadian who ran with the wrong types of crowds arrived to Columbia to escape his past thinking it is a peaceful place, only to be imprisoned and forced to be a slave until he is indirectly freed by the False Shephard, now desperate to escape or remove those responsible will he fall into the never ending circle of violence and revenge? Possible AU, Possible OCxElizabeth
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello all, this is going to be my first fanfic this you could say is also kind of an experiment; I have wanted to write some sort of fanfic for a while now but never thought my stories would be good and if I even want to get serious with fanfics but I won't know unless I sit down, try writing something and have someone read it. Depending on how I feel with the direction the story is going, my satisfaction with my writing and of course your reviews will determine if this fanfic continues. So the story commences.**

Chapter 1: Prologue

"Heaven friend! Or as close to it as you will get until Judgement day!"

That is what I was told when I asked the man with the full white robes in the welcome center what Columbia is. The floor of the hall was covered in shallow water with small water falls in every nook and corner, hundreds of candles lit the area and in the center was a statue meant to showcase the divinity of the city's leader - Zachery Comstock.

Off to the sides of the welcome center were two area's for mass one devoted to Lady Comstock and the other to the "Lamb of Columbia". I continued down the stairs looking for a way out of the Welcome center. The bottom of the stairs opened up to a large hall that was again flooded with water and lit with candles and at the far end had a preacher who was talking about how great Comstock was to his large congregation. I approached and entered their circle and caught the attention of everyone.

"Is it someone new? Someone from the Sodom below?" The priest asked, I stayed silent and just looked at him not realising until a minute after that he was blind it then made sense why he asked such an obvious question. "It is, I have come from below" I responded. "I am Preacher Witting, In order to enter the city you must be baptised in the sweet water of the lord! Do you accept" he said while reaching out his hand waiting for me to grasp it. "I am already a child of the Lord" I said, "Was baptised when I was born". The preacher chuckled a little, "If that is the case, then allow this baptism to enter you into the prophet's family" It seemed I wasn't going to be allowed in until Preacher Witting had personally baptised me. "Then so be it" I said as I took his hand and he dunked me into the water.

I was finally able to leave the Welcome center I remember the awe I was in pushing open the doors to the city and seeing it for the first time it was like something out of a good book. The angel tower of monument island way in the distance the clouds caressing the floating buildings as they traveled in the sky, the constant shining sun. It really did seem like Heaven, however that was in 1910. It's now 1912 and my view of the city is much different.

"All of you, Eyes forward!" The Columbian squad leader yelled as he looked at us, the line of twenty men. I tried to glanced over at one of my friends who was also in this line but realised it was the wrong moment when my shirts collar was grabbed and I was face to face with a guard. "Hey, this one tried to glance off somewhere". The squad leader smirked, "Pull him out of the line". The guard pulled me out and placed me on my knees in front of everyone, the squad leader bent down to hover over me "You think it's ok to disobey my orders you Canadian piece of shit?" I stayed silent and didn't move a muscle trying to not worsen the situation I just got in. The squad leader not expecting an answer stood back up straight though was still looking at me, "Even a dog could understand my orders, so what will we treat you as?" the squad leader then kicked me in the shoulder forcing me to roll on my back "Garbage, that's what, Just like your country" the squad leader then looked to some of his guards then back to me "Garbage that doesn't get picked up usually gets stepped on, neither me or my guards are picking you up" A few guards huddled around me and proceeded to stomp and kick. I tried blocking some blows but only being able to block so much eventually I blacked out.

When I came to I was in a cell the guard passing by on patrol noticed me, stopped and faced me "Oh look who is awake! Mr. Fink has been notified of your disobedience." He put a hand over his chin contemplating "I wonder if telling Mr. Fink ruined your chances of helping set up the raffle this year, that would be a great laugh, no work, no pay" he finished as he snapped his fingers. The guard returned to his patrol around the cell block. I just lay there too sore to move thanks to the earlier punishment. For 2 years almost since I had arrived I've been stuck in their slavery system being a labourer, my name stripped and replaced by a prisoner number. To actually live well in Columbia you have to be American, Christian and White. I was only Christian and White. I came to Columbia looking to escape my past like I am sure many did but at this point that's not happening, at this point I want two things: Escape or Revenge.

**A/N: There we are the prologue, please review, as a first time writer it would help immensely and allow me to maybe keep what you liked and change what you don't.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The next chapter is here! The length of this Chapter is about the length I want to make every Chapter. The prologue was of course intentionally short. As for the amount of time it took for me to do this chapter it was mostly a case of not having the time to write.**

** ANP Productions: Thanks, I'm glad that my story appeals to you. I hope you like the direction I'm going to be taking this, The OC will not be unnamed for much longer and the entire story WILL be from the OC's point of view.**

** flamingshield: actually it's not, Canada before WW1 was pretty unknown. They had yet to "prove" themselves to the world. You got to remember people in Columbia worship the founding fathers of America like gods. Canadians have nothing to do with the founding fathers. America even tried to invade Canada and take it from the British during the War of 1812. In 1912, normal America is fine with Canada, Columbia would not be.**

**Now on the Story**

Chapter 2: the 1912 Raffle and Fair

"Wake up, all of you, wake up" I heard the guards yelling as they walked swiftly up and down the hallways of the cell block banging their batons over the bars of the cells, making as much noise as possible. I got up and sat off the side of the bed which consisted of nothing more than a stiff metal frame and a thin layer of straw on top. I happened to have a cell that had a small window; I moved my hands through my short brown hair sort of combing it then looked at the window and saw very little light coming in past the bars. I made an estimate that it had to be about four in the morning.

Anyone who disobeyed any orders was put into these cells as a form of punishment in that they are only ever considered last when it comes to work. Mr. Fink pays you based on the work you do, more dangerous work means more pay. The "pay" however is not Silver Eagles like the rest of Columbia; payment from Mr. Fink is credit which you then can spend in his Company Store. The only thing worth buying from the company store though is food. The guards are ordered only to bring a small amount of food to a worker if they haven't been able to work for a few days, simply so the worker won't die.

Being the day of the raffle seemed to put everyone in a good mood however since guards were passing around fresh apples regardless of when the last meal was. Even we in the cells were getting an apple. Despite the nice gesture, the day of the raffle was a day where workers followed orders to the letter. Punishment is known to be extremely harsh with disobedient workers being sent to the Fraternal Order of the Ravens. No one knows what happens to them afterwards though everyone only assumes the worst.

A guard finally got to my cell he whistled to get my attention and tossed in an apple. I caught it and took a bite into it right away. For the next few minutes I solely focused on eating the apple not noticing the warden standing in front of my cell. He caught my attention when he started counting down from five."5", I looked up at the warden.

"4….3….2….1" he said looking down at his pocket watch he held in his hand. "Your time in these cells is over, Mr. Fink needs more hands helping to set up the raffle" he said as he unlocked the cell. I stood up and walked out of the cell. The entire time he was staring into my brown eyes as if he was checking to see if I grateful for being let out. I ignored the warden and started walking to the exit; a few guards were behind me escorting me out. As I walked I could hear cursing from the other inmates wondering why I was being let out and not them. Truth is I don't even know why I was being released and why I was the only one. Perhaps it was God that decided I be let out but that wouldn't make sense even though I was born Christian I stopped believing a long time ago.

Outside the prison building there was a work barge waiting to pick me up. As I approached it I could see a bunch of other workers already on it most likely all heading to work on the raffle. I stepped on the barge and immediately started looking for anyone I knew. As the barge pulled away from the prison building I noticed one of my friends sitting on a small crate near the front of the raised crew cabin. I approached him slowly having to make my way past the large amount of passengers onboard. When I got there he was talking to some of the other passengers and I thought I heard him mention something about the False Shepherd, I put my hand on his shoulder to get his attention, "Did just hear something about the False Shepherd" I said in a hushed tone. He looked at me and had a surprised look on his face, he was the friend I tried to glance at in that line, probably thought I was dead by now. "Kevin! Thought ya were a goner but I'm glad to see they can't keep ya down" My friend said in his light Irish accent as we shook hands. He did think I was dead. "Hello to you too Jeremy, now about this False Shepherd" I responded, curious to hear what information he had.

I had met Jeremy McGrath in the Graveyard Shift bar in shantytown. A drunken patron started walking around and was mouthing off the Vox Populi. He was also going to everyone and asking for their opinion on the Vox all while ignoring the bartender's demands to leave. The drunken patron was getting very frustrated as most people ignored him and the ones that did reply had positives to say about the Vox. The drunken patron approached me from behind and asked my opinion. I ignored him like others did but that sent the patron over the edge and he pulled a knife to try and stab me. Right after the patron revealed the knife, Jeremy who was sitting beside me to my left was watching the whole situation. He knocked the patron out with right hook to the jaw. I had spun around on the bar stool after hearing the punch and the patron's yelp and saw the patron on the ground with a knife near his hand. Jeremy muttered a "your welcome" and went back to his drink. I offered to buy him another beer and we started talking. I found out he was a member of the Vox Populi and that his role was an informant. I had helped him out a few times gathering information after that and he offered to have me join the Vox I refused however as the Vox was currently more like a gang and not really a big civilian movement. They had few members and even fewer weapons. If the Vox ever became a revolution maybe I would Join at that point.

"The False Shepherd is arriving in the city today" Jeremy said in a low voice. I knew he was a good informant but this was absurd, where could he have gotten this information. "Do you have proof? That's a pretty bold statement" I said. He smirked "For something this big? Of course", he reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out what looked like a telegram card. He handed it to me. It was from Comstock himself to the police commissioner. It read:

Have all police on alert – STOP,

False Shepherd Arrives today – STOP,

Unknown time or location of Arrival

-Comstock

The telegram was dated for today, July 6th, 1912.

I had a surprised look, "where did you get this and how?" I asked. "You are talking to a master informant! I find your lack of faith disturbing" Jeremy said in a not very loud but prideful voice "But very well I will tell you, I got it from…" Jeremy was cut off by a guard on the loudspeaker getting everyone's attention. We had arrived to the location of the raffle and were told to disembark. As I stepped off the barge I was pulled aside by a guard while everyone else moved ahead and lined up. It was now about 7 in the morning and I could see the guard clearly in the sunlight. There was nothing special about this guard; I was wondering now why he pulled me aside. He probably was just here to escort me somewhere. "Let me see your arm" the guard said trying to sound tough. "Ok" I said with a nervous expression to play along. Every worker had a brand burned into the arm of their choice. This brand was a designation number that replaced your name while in Finks Custody. The fact that it was burned in was so if a worker happened to escape they could be found and returned. It was also a personal reminder to the worker. My designation was CN-288. "You are going to be part of the backstage crew again this year, you know where the stage is?" the guard said still in a tough voice. "I remember" I said and the guard gestured I walk in front of him to the location of the stage.

The backstage crew is personally chosen by Mr. Fink. The people in the backstage crew get to personally set up and witness what the raffle consists of. Mr. Fink uses it as a form of punishment and demoralization for any workers that get chosen. This will be my third time in the backstage crew. I know Mr. Fink keeps putting me in because I turned down his offer to become his head of security. Mr. Fink offered it saying that he knew about my past down below and I would make an excellent head of security. I refused knowing what someone with my past would be doing in that kind of job.

I arrived at the location of the stage and was told to start helping set up. By the time we were finished it was around noon from what I could tell. There was lots of noise around now from the various fair concessions set up, people celebrating and fireworks going off. I was behind the curtains of the stage and could hear a large amount of people just on the other side. The workers in the back of the stage with me were setting up the "Grand Prize" of the raffle. This year's grand prize was an interracial couple that was going to get pelted by baseballs. The male was white and the female was African they both had fear in their eyes. I was not sure if they knew what was happening or didn't know. Mr. Fink came in through the back entrance. He walked past us and onto the stage. The backstage crew could hear the crowd getting anxious as Mr. Fink appeared. They were eager to start.

Mr. Fink got the crowd singing to rile them up and give anyone who hadn't quite got there yet a little more time to arrive. The bride started balling but was quickly shushed and comforted by the workers. Finally Mr. Fink announced that the raffle had started, everyone out there was cheering. "Bring me the bowl!" I heard Mr. Fink say followed by some remark about the bowl carrier being the prettiest young white girl in Columbia. "And the winner is number 77!" From the backstage it sounded like the crowd located their winner pretty quickly. "Congratulations! First Throw!" I heard Mr. Fink say.

I pulled the lever I was beside and the curtains came up and the grand prize moved out onto the stage. I heard Mr. Fink direct a wedding chant as the grand prize was front and center on the stage. I peered out onto the crowd and saw what looked like their winner. He was an older man who looked close to his forties; he had brown hair and green eyes. He had a 5 o'clock shadow despite it not being 5 o'clock. His clothes were different than everyone else's clothes in Columbia they didn't look poor but they weren't upper class either. He had a confused expression on his face. I could tell he was different, anyone else would be happy to have first throw. The man's expression went from confusion to anger when Mr. Fink started taunting him about not throwing. He muttered something and wound up for the throw while staring at Mr. Fink. This was going to be amusing I thought expecting Mr. Fink to take the baseball instead of the couple. Just when the man was going to throw two police officers grabbed him and revealed to everyone that this man was the False Shepherd.

I saw Mr. Fink bend down on the stage and start talking to the False Shepherd. "Where'd you get that brand boy? Don't you know that makes you the back stabbing snake in the grass False Shepherd?" Mr. Fink raised his arms up and out and motioned to the crowd "And we ain't letting no False Shepherd into our flock! Show em what we got planned boys!" Mr. Fink said before he walked off stage and stormed past us and out the backstage entrance. One police officer had a handheld mechanism that he was moving closer to the False Shepherd. They were going to slice the False Shepherds skull open with a rotating three-pronged hook device called the Skyhook. The False Shepherd threw the ball he still had in his hand straight up to distract one of the police officers. He then pushed the distracted police officers head into the Skyhook with gruesome results. The crowd was now screaming and running from the bloody scene as more police officers arrived. The False Shepherd retrieved the skyhook out of the dead policeman's skull and used the skyhook as a weapon, killing three more police officers.

While I was watching what was happening outside I didn't notice police officers come into the stage area to escort workers of the backstage crew out. "Out the back now!" I heard one police officer say to me. I turned to see 4 police officers approaching me with Batons ready in hand. I had two choices at this point Jump off the stage to where the False Shepherd is or let the police officers capture me. I didn't want to go back so I pulled the lever for the Heavy curtains to come down and ran to the edge of the stage and jumped off before they closed. the heavy curtains would force the police officers to go around. When I landed the False Shepherd had his back to me but I must have scared him because he quickly turned around with his skyhook raised in the sky ready to strike. He stopped himself when he saw I wasn't police. He lowered his skyhook and looked around checking for more police. He turned back to me, "you just almost died, Kid". I formed a slight smile "Kid? Sure why not, but I assume after you get the Lamb out of the tower you're going to try and get off the city". The False Shepherd nodded "Correct, but how do you know" he said. "I've seen the signs, I'm coming with you, I know how to fight and use firearms I'm –"I was cut off when we heard more police officers arriving to the area. The False Shepherd walked over to some stairs leading out of the stage area "You can fight, that'll do, Lets go" He said as he motioned for me to follow him.

"So what's your name kid?" The False Shepherd asked.

"Kevin Miller, yours?" I responded.

"Booker DeWitt" The False Shepherd replied.

**A/N: I am saying this now, I have actually no timetable for when the next Chapter will be up. I also don't want to constrict myself with a timetable and try and rush chapters. So the next Chapter will be up when I feel its be put up**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So at this part of the game there is a lot of fighting on the way to Monument Island and while I could put it in I feel it would drag out the story too much at least at this point in time in later chapters there is going to be a lot more fighting anyways as we get further and further into the adventure. Another thing I am doing is making the adventure more dangerous by taking away some power like possession on humans, Vigors being deployed as traps and overall the shield is going to be fairly weak (though I almost removed it). I hope people are liking the story and direction so far. (some reviews would help though I don't expect many until there are more chapters). **

Chapter 3: Heavy Hitting

Booker and I ran up the stairs and out of the stage area to see a small street section with some concession stands and firework canisters. On the other end was a large bridge that led right to Monument Island. The bridge was lined with citizens cowering in fear over the sudden chaos. "Let's hurry and cross" Booker said as he dashed towards the Bridge but before he could step on a large metal barrier raised up blocking access. The bridge then floated away to another part of Columbia that was safe. "Damn it" Booker shouted unable to stop his dash and rammed into the metal barrier. He quickly recovered and turned to me "Follow me, I might know another way to Monument Island" Booker said but before we could start moving we heard police open the gate of a side entrance leading to behind the stage. Booker got behind a small ticket booth while I crouched behind a few barrels that were nearby. I peered over the barrels to see a bunch of police officers with their batons ready. Booker and I charged out at them. Out of five police officers two of the police officers turned to face me while booker was fighting three.

The first police officer swung the baton downwards at me, I side stepped to the right dodging it and delivering a punch to side of the police officers face. While the first police officer was stumbling from the punch the second one who was behind him swung his baton. I grabbed his wrist with my left arm as he had also swung downwards. I kicked the police officer in the leg with a low kick and hooked his leg with my foot. I scooped the police officers leg from under him and the police officer collapsed to the ground. I was still holding on to the police officer's wrist so I twisted his arm and hit his elbow with my knee. The police officers arm fractured with a loud snap. The police officer didn't get up so he probably blacked out. The first police officer was now behind me and put me into a chokehold. I fought it trying to pull the police officers arms from around my neck. While in the chokehold I happened to be looking in the direction of the gate. I saw another police officer round the gate, this officer had a pistol. I managed to call out while fighting the chokehold "Booker, one has a –"as if on cue the police officer started firing at Booker. He used his skyhook to execute the last police officer he was fighting then took some cover until the police officer with the pistol was reloading. Booker ran over to me with the skyhook revved up and drove it into my attackers back. The police officer released his grip on me and fell to his knees. The skyhook was stuck in the police officer so Booker put his foot on the police officers back. He then proceeded to push with his foot and pull the skyhook until it came free. The police officer with the handgun finished reloading and aimed towards us. We both scrambled back into cover. "We wait until he reloads then we both charge him" Booker said as we peeked around cover every so often. The police officer continued to fire not worrying about how much ammo he had. When the bullets stopped passing by us or impacting our cover Booker and I both charged the police officer. The police officer saw us and panicked and dropped the magazine he was trying to insert into the gun. The police officer scrambled to pick up the magazine and saw Booker a few feet in front of him when he looked up. Booker grabbed the police officer and snapped his neck with the skyhook. We looked around and saw no more hostiles.

"Good job Kid, quickly loot the bodies and let's keep moving." Booker said as he walked up the ramp of the barge we were beside to scout the area ahead. I picked up the pistol the police officer had and inspected it "Broadsider Pistol, Designed and Produced by Fink MFG." I said aloud reading the inscription on the side of the gun. The pistol looked exactly like a Mauser C96. It makes sense that Columbia would want to produce their own guns and even copy good designs to avoid having to buy weapons and also be self-sufficient. I passed the pistol to Booker and started looting the police officer's corpses for ammo or anything useful. I passed ammo I found to Booker then I grabbed a skyhook of my own and started testing it out. I revved it and swung it around a little to get the weight of it. I attached the skyhook to my work belt which I had around my overalls and walked up the ramp and over to Booker. "Ready" I said as we made a short jump off the front of the barge and ran past the raffles front entrance to a slightly ajar gate. Beside the gate was an open police locker which had a belt holster and pistol in it. I grabbed the holster and put it on. Booker decided to go ahead a little bit. I grabbed the already loaded magazines in the locker and put them in the small pouches on the belt holster. I put one magazine in the pistol and pulled the bolt back loading a round to the chamber. I ran past the gate down a small winding road to meet up with Booker who was in front of a closed gate. When Booker saw me he grabbed the gate and started pulling it open "What time is it? It feels like it actually got warmer out here". I shrugged and we both walked through the now open gate. We stopped on the other side when we heard a faint yell about a Fireman. In the middle of the road we saw a pile of debris with someone climbing on top of it. The person was wearing a suit made of what looked like leather and metal and had something strapped to his back which was releasing black smoke like it was burning. Upon the person seeing us the metal parts on the suit got red hot. "Drown in Flame!" the person yelled and let out a shockwave of fire igniting everything around him. I felt the heat and stumbled back a bit not expecting the shockwave.

"Holy Shit, well I guess that's definitely a fireman" I said as I steadied myself. I raised my pistol and started firing, Booker did the same. The bullets seemed to just be making sparks and a ping sound when they hit the fireman so I couldn't tell if they were hurting the fireman or just making him angry. The fireman jumped off the pile of debris and threw a flaming red ball at us. Booker and I instinctively dived in opposite directions scrambling to cover. The Flaming red ball exploded in another shockwave of flame where we both had been a moment ago. The fireman started running at Booker throwing more flaming orbs at him while closing the distance. I ran up the right side of the street got behind the fireman and saw a burning furnace on his back. I shot the furnace trying to do something to hurt the fireman. It seemed to do nothing as the fireman kept running at Booker who started shooting the mask of the fireman hoping to do some sort of damage. The last shot Booker fired managed to halt the fireman and make him stumble. Booker took the opportunity to run over to where I was "Aim for the mask" he said. The fireman recovered and charged at both of us again. We both aimed for the mask of the fireman and proceeded to fire. After a short barrage the fireman finally screamed in pain and fell over mid-charge but not before releasing a final mini shockwave as he hit the ground.

We walked over to the fireman's corpse and noticed a bottle of something on the ground. Booker picked it up and inspected it "Devils Kiss, I guess this is what the fireman was using". I realized what it was once Booker said the name of it. "It is, they're named Vigors. This one gives you powers like that Fireman". He quickly glanced at me "Well, you only live once". Before I could say anything else he pulled the cap off and drank the Vigor. I could do nothing but watch his reaction to it. He started looking at his hands and screaming like he was in pain. I wasn't quite sure what was going on but whatever it was it only lasted a few seconds. Booker was panting heavily and bent over with his hands on his knees "Shit, that was no sample". He recomposed himself and turned to me "You know I drank a bottle of something similar on my way to the raffle, I used it once and a machine thought I was someone else. It was green; symbol was a heart with a knife through it". I thought for a second before answering "That's possession if I'm not mistaken". He turned and started walking down the street "These Vigors, hell of a thing" he muttered.

After a couple of minutes of quiet walking we came up to a restaurant named The Blue Ribbon. With no other path to take we decided to see if we could cut through. Booker turned the handle and pushed the door a bit surprisingly it opened. I had my pistol pointed at the door while it was opening to make sure no one would try and surprise us as we tried to enter. I walked in first pistol still raised ready to fire. Booker entered behind me pistol also raised. We were in a small reception area with the main dining room around the corner. Booker went ahead and entered the main dining area while I closed the door behind us. When I rounded the corner I saw Booker and two other people in the dining room. One person was a man who was wiping the bar and the other a woman who was standing in the door way to the kitchen holding a platter with a glowing yellow bottle on it. They both had similar clothes notably a tan jacket. I was wondering if they were twins because they both had reddish hair and a very similar face. They were both looking at Booker with no fear that he had a gun pointed in their direction. "We have company" the man said in a British accent. "We do indeed" said the woman also in a British accent. Booker kept the gun pointed at them "Why are you following me?" he said sternly. "We were already here" the woman said. "Why are you following us?" the man said immediately after. Booker simply sighed and lowered his pistol. "Aperitif?" the woman said. Booker approached the woman, took the bottle and started examining it. "Mr. Miller" the man said getting my attention. He threw a bag at my feet "You won't be getting anywhere with working clothes". I picked up the bag and looked inside to see a shoe box, simple black dress pants, a white dress shirt, a tie and a striped vest. I went back around the corner and behind the reception counter to change clothes.

After getting everything on I felt a little bit of happiness wearing non-work clothes once again, but it quickly faded. There were tons of people Mr. Fink still had in his labour force yet I was one of the few or maybe the only one to escape during the raffle's chaos. I walked back in to the dining room to see the Man and Woman watch Booker who was sitting at one of the tables slowly drinking the yellow liquid. I sat down at the same table Booker was at. He would take a big gulp of the yellow liquid, mutter something about the taste, take a sip of some whiskey then wait a few minutes before repeating. I turned to the man who was still behind the bar "I would like a Beer while I am waiting, what do you have?" The man turned his attention to me "Why would you want a Beer" the man said. "When you could have something better for you." the woman finished. I looked and sure enough directly in front of me was another yellow glowing bottle. There was also an open beer which was odd because when I sat down I was certain there was no beer there.

I opened the yellow bottle and started drinking the yellow liquid. I took a sip at first I tasted nothing and was wondering what Booker was complaining about. The taste then hit me and I almost threw up. It was indescribable. I took a big gulp of the beer to drown out the yellow drink. I finished my beer and the drink and looked to Booker who had his face in his hands. "Are you going to tell me what that was now and why it would help?" Booker said as soon as he put his hands down on the table. Though before the man or the woman said anything Booker jumped in his chair a little bit. They then turned and looked at me probably expecting the same thing. I sat just waiting when unexpectedly I saw in the middle of my vision what looked like pieces of glass being put together divided by yellow cracks. The cracks then disappeared and my vision was clear again. I did jump in my seat when it happened. "I'm surprised" said the woman walking out of the way to the kitchen. "Surprised that it worked?" said the man. "No, surprised that it didn't kill them" replied the woman. "But having a repulsive-magnetic shield around one's body can come handy" said the man. "If it doesn't kill you" added the woman. "A fair point" remarked the man. Booker turned to me and whispered across the table "If they show up again do not take anything they offer, now let's get the hell out of here". We stood up and made are way out back through the kitchen which twisted around to an outdoor supply dock. "Shit, now what?" Booker said. I looked around and noticed some hooks hanging from the buildings. "Look, the buildings have hooks on them maybe we can attach on using the skyhook." I said bringing his attention to it.

"Here goes nothing" Booker took out his skyhook and jumped off the platform towards the hook after getting a running start. The skyhook gravitated in mid-air and pulled him over to the hook. He easily hooked on with perfect accuracy "Whoa! Damn hooks must be magnetized!" he called back. He swung towards and jumped off the first hook and attached to the second hook giving me space to follow. I jumped on the first hook and felt a little bit of pain in my arm but surprisingly wasn't very much. Booker jumped onto a third hook then onto a rooftop by some crates. After swinging a few times I landed beside him and saw him picking up a gun with some ammo that was on the crate. I picked up one of the guns myself and inspected it. It was a Machine gun; it was unlike other guns down below, holding the trigger would make this gun fire until the magazine was empty. We heard someone on a PA system tell everyone to remain indoors. We continued on going from roof top to roof top and hiding from the occasional gunship searching for the False Shepherd until we reached another fair area. There was absolutely no one around. All the attractions were abandoned. Above us we could see Monument tower much larger than before, we were getting close. We had to cut through another building. I read the name and I got a bad feeling to my stomach. The building was the Fraternal Order of the Ravens. There was no way around the building we had to go through it. The interior of the building was dark; there were crows everywhere with rotting food for them. In the foyer there was a statue to John Wilkes Booth. To the right was a bar and the left a long dining table. There were various paintings celebrating the death of Abraham Lincoln. Behind the statue was a dual staircase leading to another part of the building. We went to the top of the stairs and we could hear talking from behind the door. We opened it slowly, got low and approached the railing in front of us. Below us was a mass hall and we could see the leader giving some sort of sermon to a bunch of cultists. The cultists were marching in place and chanting a prayer to Lady Comstock. "Time to try out this vigor, be ready to fire as soon as I throw it" Booker said quietly while forming a flaming orb in his hand. I nodded waiting for his throw.

Booker stood up and threw it into the middle of the crowd. The orb exploded and sent flame out in all directions. At the same time I stood up and started firing the machine gun into anyone who wasn't on fire. Booker did the same a moment later. All that was left in the mass hall was burn marks, bullet holes, blood and bodies. they were all dead before they realized what was going on. There was a door to the right of the stage which took us to some back rooms meant for more recognized members. We came upon a closed door. I covered the door while Booker tried to open it. It was on a short chain so unexpectedly to us the door stopped as chain reached full tension. On the other side was a man strung up on a wall screaming while getting pecked to death by crows. Booker applied force and the door chain snapped allowing the door to open normally. Booker went through the door watching ahead while I went to check on the prisoner. I put my fingers to his bloodied neck checking for a pulse and found none. I didn't say anything to Booker but the prisoner had a prisoner number meaning he was from Fink's work force. I now knew what happens to prisoners when sent to the Order of the Ravens; I wasn't surprised of the outcome.

I heard the sound of a bird squawk and turned around to see a murder of crows flying around in formation surrounded by a black mist. We were in a garden with a statue of a praying Lady Comstock in the center. The murder got close to the ground and out of the mist popped a cultist wearing black robes and a coffin chained to his back. "For Lady Comstock!" the cultist yelled as he pulled out a sword. Booker and I raised our guns and started shooting at the cultist only for him to disappear and form into another Murder and charge us. "That's new, any ideas?" I said somewhat panicked looking around there wasn't much room to manoeuvre. Booker didn't say anything he unexpectedly pushed me. I lost my balance and fell over I also dropped my machine gun during the fall. The way Booker pushed me I fell forwards so when I rolled over onto my back I saw the cultist standing where Booker and I had been a moment ago, I didn't see where Booker went. The cultist probably knowing he was about to get shot formed into another murder and flew back into the center of the garden. I stood up to see the cultist trying to attack Booker. Booker was just concentrating on trying to dodge the cultist since every time Booker tried to fire the Cultist would use his murder and Blink to another spot which made the cultist almost impossible to track. Booker tripped and fell backwards dodging one of the cultist's attacks but now the cultist was standing on top of him keeping him down. I started running towards the cultist. The cultist raised his sword; tip facing downward ready to plunge it into Booker's chest. I got close to them and threw myself at the cultist pushing him off Booker and knocking the sword away. I then started slamming my fist into the spot I thought the cultist's face was. I stood up, took out my pistol and fired a shot into the cultist for good measure.

"Good Job once again Kid" Booker said as he stood up and walked over to the cultist's corpse to start looting him. "Are you ex-military? Cause I mean you know hand-to-hand combat and firearm use, you are decently accurate and you have shown right there you can handle situations." Booker said looting the corpse. "No, was never in the military I learned from other means". I said not wanting to directly tell Booker how I learned to fight. "Other means?" Booker asked still looting the corpse. "It's something I don't want to talk about, The reason I first came to Columbia was to get away from it. I quickly found out this city is just as bad." He stood up holding a bottle in his hand he recovered from the corpse. "My past is also the reason I'm here and like you I'd rather not talk about it." Booker said looking at the bottle.

Booker saying that got me curious on what he had done to come to this god forsaken city. I'm sure I will find out in time and I wonder if it's worse than what I've done.

**A/N: Next Chapter will be up when ready, it will include Monument Island and Elizabeth.**


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